There is something meditative about “Emergency in a Sushi All You Can Eat.” Its acoustic guitar, which fills most of the sonic space, or at least the half allotted to the instruments, is restless and driving, yet hypnotic and engaging; its lyrics are sparse, hazy, and mantra-like. On paper, at least, this is the sound of the singer-songwriter, but in reality, it is spiritual and seductive in ways most six-string troubadours could only be envious of.
As the warm tones emanate from the guitar, and the song slowly envelops itself in the most delicate electronic cloak, it is the vocals that grab you. The words feel more rhetorical than narrative, more philosophical than merely entertaining.
The birthing of the song sheds some light on its beguiling nature. Written following the titular “emergency,” the song seems to encapsulate the state of concussion that the writer found himself in; as such, it is soaked with a sort of lysergic grace and otherworldly distance.
And the words are at once odd and reflective, profound yet unanswerable, like a Buddhist Koan where the question is everything and the answer undefinable —the exercise being to look at the world from a new perspective.
Previous singles, “Luxury Apartments” and “Happiness,” were certainly understated and delicate sonic flowers, but this is something else; this is Courtesy Car in a different dimension. I would ask for more, but if that would require another dramatic incident to access such songwriting realms, perhaps I should just be pleased that we at least have this one beautiful and beguiling piece.
